The Best Fish
by saxanet12
Summary: Because the best fish are the hardest to catch and the hardest to keep. Twenty five years in the life of Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta, star-crossed lovers from District Four. Rated T to be on the safe side.
1. Introduction: Born to Swim

**Introduction: Born to Swim**

It was 7:42 A.M and Annise Elizabeth Cresta was born. She was so still at birth; the nurses thought she was a stillborn. But she wasn't. Her parents looked down at her. They refused to name her a silly sea name, giving her a formal fancy name instead. Even then, she was raised by a proper family.

Seven minutes later, at precisely 7:49 A.M, the time of the high tide, Finnick Andrei Odair was born. The nurses and doctors marveled at the baby's happiness. He didn't come out crying, but he was laughing, so the nurses didn't have to hit him so he would start breathing. Instead he gurgled and pointed his hands at the water lapping the shore outside the window. Even then, he loved the ocean.

His parents, Canna and Sarracenia Odair, laughed and cooed at their baby boy, their only child. They marveled at his beautiful sea green eyes and petted the soft fuzz on his head.

Canna Odair couldn't be any happier. His life was complete. He had a beautiful wife and a wonderful child. He couldn't possibly ask for more.

He was relishing this fact when he suddenly heard a scream. His wife, Sarra was convulsing on the white hospital bed. He could only hold her hand and yell for a nurse before she went still. His breath caught in his throat and he felt himself choking back sobs. Just a minute ago his lovely wife was smiling at him, her face lit up in joy. The next, she was as still as the waters before a hurricane. He buried his head in his hands and didn't come out for a long time.

And in his little crib, Baby Finnick finally began to cry.

**A/N: Hi everyone, thank you so much for reading the first chapter of my first ever fan fiction on this site! I really appreciate your support! If you do not mind, please take the time to comment or favorite my story.**

**An awesome song companion to this chapter is "You are Your Mother's Child" by Conor Oberst, so please check it out!**

**Thank you so much for stopping by, and I really hope you continue to read as the story unfolds!**


	2. Year One: A Siren's Call

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games! Although I wish I owned Finnick :D All rights to Suzanne Collins**

**Year One- Siren's Call**

The District Four Marketplace was buzzing with life. Finnick looked around. The entire place was filled with moving people. It smelled pungent, like dead fish (everything he'd known so far smelled like dead fish) and he kept jostling as people bumped into his father Canna, who was carrying him. He didn't like it, but he lacked the language to put that into words. _Baa to waher, _he kept thinking over and over in his head, but his dad wasn't getting the picture. Getting frustrated, Finnick decided to switch to last resorts. He crumpled his face and bawled at the top of his lungs, "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

"Well, your son is certainly loud," an obnoxious sounding lady remarked, and Finnick suddenly stopped wailing, curious to what was going on.

His father shifted him on his hip. "Well, he has the voice of a Siren," he remarked, laughing.

The humor was lost on the lady. "Hmph," she remarked, her nose in the air, "Keep him quiet. He's giving me a headache!"

Finnick's big green eyes looked up at the woman. She was dressed in a white button down with a silk skirt, and looked pristine clean despite the fine layer of dust that seemed to settle on everything in this place. She had a bracelet with fifteen pearls on it. Finnick decided he didn't like her.

He blew a raspberry at her, and she shrieked, angrily turning towards his father. "You ought to teach your son some manners!" His father only smiled.

It was only when the lady sashayed away that he noticed the thing on her hip. It was a lot like him, except its hair was longer, wavy and reddish. It had blue eyes and a couple of brown dots across its cheeks. It looked at Finnick from behind the lady's back, and Finnick held his hands out towards it. Their fingers linked for a second, and he noticed how soft its skin was, but then the blue eyed thing was pulled away.

He looked at her until he couldn't anymore.

**A/N: Hello everyone, just wanted to remind you to favorite, follow, and comment! It'll make me really happy!**

**I promise the chapters will get longer (I actually have it all written out, but I have too much homework to upload it all), but for right now, enjoy these little ones!**

**And a cool song that kinda goes with the chapter is "The Siren's Song" from the movie "Sinbad"**

**Anyways, thanks for stopping by and please keep coming back for more chapters! I'll try to upload each day!**


	3. Year Two: Anniegel

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT won the Hunger Games. All rights to the wonderful Mrs. Collins.**

**Year Two- Anniegel**

"Finn, that was your mom. She was an angel."

Finn looked at his dad in confusion.

_What's an angel?_

"An angel is a heavenly being, brought to the earth to keep man sane in this troubling Earth." Canna gazed off into space, lost in his own world, "Every man needs to find his angel, and your mother was mine, Finn." Finnick's dad often talked to Finnick as if he was older and not just two.

Finnick smiled as if he understood and toddled to his bed.

Right behind his house was the house of a net maker.

It was late at night that he saw the face through his window. Small and delicate, quiet and shy. She looked at him while he looked at her, his large eyes widening. He reached out his hand to touch her, but felt it bounce against the glass. He fell back into a sitting position, confused.

Every night, he looked out the window and saw her looking back at him, her face pale, her eyes wide in curiosity. Every night he tried to reach through the glass, knowing his hand would bounce away. He felt the corners of his mouth quirk up. He didn't know why, but he smiled at her.

It took her weeks to smile back. She would stare at him, her face unchanging, as he grinned at her, his goofy smile filling his face, when she suddenly smiled back, her smile small and sweet. Finnick noticed.

But that's when a large pair of arms carried her away. Finnick saw the pearl bangle. The curtains closed with a final swish. Finnick jerked back in surprise.

And that's when he realized.

_That's what an angel is._

**Hey, once again, thanks for stopping by and taking the time to stick to this story. I'm sorry that the chapters are short, but there's not much a two year old can do. They WILL get MUCH longer, I promise.**

**I also will try to update each day.**

**So, the song for this chapter is "Come to my Window" by Melissa Etheridge. It won a Grammy, and it is amazing!**

**So, like always, please comment, favorite, and follow (in the meantime, I'll try to come up with a more creative way to say that).**


	4. Year Three: Under the Sea

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games and never will.**

**Year Three- Under the Sea**

"All right, Finnick. Now just dunk your head underwater and open your eyes."

Finnick opened his large sea green eyes underneath the water. It was so clean and different down there. He gasped, but then water flew up his nose. He surfaced coughing and sputtering, yet still laughing.

Finnick dunked his head underneath the water again, only this time he kept his mouth shut and just looked around him. Schools of brightly colored fish swam by, and his eyes lit up. He wished he could stay down in that peaceful world forever, but his lungs began constricting, and he brought himself back to his world with all its troubles.

Finnick's dad looked down at him. He looked an awful lot like Poseidon, the god of the sea that Finnick had seen once in a picture. He was smart, too, teaching Finnick lots of things about life.

But today he was a swimming instructor. He helped Finnick learn to stroke with his arms, and propel himself with his feet. Finnick laughed, loving the silky feel of water on his skin, enjoying the coastal breeze. His laughs echoed, giving the illusion of a happy world.

He couldn't imagine ever leaving the water. With his enthusiasm and his father's tutelage, he learned to swim in a day.

She walked by with her mom, her nose turned up disdainfully at him and his water antics. He recognized her vaguely, but couldn't place her face. She was carrying a basket, and in it was some sort of woven rope.

Her eyes met his, and he smiled and waved. When she didn't smile back, he splashed a huge wave of water at her.

A couple of droplets hit her face and she wrinkled up her face, but she couldn't help but like the feeling of water on her skin.

**Hey, thanks for stopping by and sticking with this story (I have really high hopes for this one). I promise promise promise the chapters will get longer; I actually have until Chapter 15 written out, and they definitely get MUCH longer.**

**The song I picked for this chapter is "Under the Sea" from the "Little Mermaid".**

**Reviews and constructive criticism make me really happy :D:D:D:D:D:D!**


	5. Year Four: Pulling Pigtails

**Disclaimer: I do not own Panem. It does not own me. What a deal!**

**Year Four- Pulling Pigtails**

"Come on, Finnick," Finnick dragged his feet. This was the first Reaping he had to attend, and although he had no clue what was going on, he had a faint feeling that something bad lay ahead. He dug his feet into the ground.

"Let's go, Finn," his dad grunted as he lifted the ever growing Finnick into his arms, "I know you don't want to go, and I don't either, but we have to. Pain brings progress."

Finnick was dressed his best, in a white button up, slacks, and even a cute bowtie, but being a rambunctious little kid, his tie was already crooked, his white shirt was dusty, and his slacks were dragging along some exotic water bristle.

As they neared the square, an ominous feeling seemed to surround everyone. Finnick scrunched his nose up in displeasure. Being a generally happy child, he disliked the people around him being upset.

Saga Gaggle, District Four's escort took to the stage. Finnick gasped. She looked like the throngs of clown fish his father had shown him once, swimming in an aquarium. Saga began to speak.

"Happy Hunger Games everyone! Has it really been 54 years already?" Finnick began to tune out the rambling and look around him. Before him, he saw a girl about his age.

Her back was as straight and stiff as a ruler. She was wearing a pretty plaid dress, covered in blue and green checks, and her reddish mane was neatly brushed into two identical pigtails. And, Finnick noticed, she didn't move and fidget around like he did, even though she was only four like him. Her hands were neatly folded behind her, and she didn't make a sound, just faced forward respectfully.

Finnick began growing impatient. He rocked on the balls of his feet and began looking around. When was this boring mess going to be over? The stupid mayor had been talking for like three hours now!

Finnick felt his chubby hands reaching out in front of him. His fingers began to twitch. There was a mischievous gleam in his eye, and his mouth formed a cheeky, elfish grin.

"And our female tribute is…" Saga chirped….

Finnick grabbed one of Annie's perfect pigtails and pulled down as hard as he could.

Her scream was so loud; he swore you could have heard it from the Capitol.

**Kay, so follow, favorite, and REVIEW or I will pull your pigtails! **

**And the song for this chapter is a country song, "Pulling Ponytails," by Matthew Moran. It's pretty good, but not that popular, so go give him some hits on Youtube!**

**And this is the LAST really short chapter, so….YAY!**


	6. Year Five: Schooled

**Disclaimer: I don't own "The Hunger Games" or much else for that matter.**

**Year Five: Schooled**

Her hair was neatly combed and pulled back in two braids, and her uniform was freshly ironed and pleated. She walked to school holding her mother's hand, her paper sack hitting her thighs as she skipped,.

She picked the desk at the front of the class, right in front of the teacher's desk. Nobody else sat near her, not wanting to be close to the teacher's wrath. Annie didn't mind. She neatly arranged her pencils and pens on top of the desk and waited patiently for the teacher to walk in. Today was her first day of kindergarten, and she was prepared.

He ran in at the last moment, his things flying everywhere. His shirt was untucked and hanging, his tie untied, and his pants already had a hole in them even though it was only the first day. He haggardly scanned the room, and plopped himself down in the only available seat; up at the front next to her.

"Hey," he smiled at her. She looked at him, confused. Why did he say hi? He didn't know her. They had seen each other around, but they didn't even know each other's names. She smiled tentatively back.

The teacher was calling roll. When she said Annise Cresta, Annie simply raised her hand and said, "Present, ma'am."

When Finnick Odair was called, he leaned back in his chair and trolled, "That's my name, don't wear it out." The class erupted in laughter and Finnick gave Annie a cheeky grin.

He laughed when he received his palm lashing.

XxX

She sat at lunch alone.

He sat at a crowded table surrounded by throngs of other kids. The group seemed to burst into peals of laughter every five seconds. Finnick had waved her over at the beginning of lunch but she had turned away.

She wasn't _that_ lonely.

Recess time had come. He headed straight for the ocean, even though it was probably forbidden. She wanted to call after him, tell him he'd probably get another lashing, but her throat seemed to constrict, leaving her silent.

"Come on in!" he called to her from the water. Other kids had followed suit, laughing and playing as they entered the water.

Annie stood off by herself. "I couldn't." she replied. "This is a new dress, and my mother would be mad if I got it wet."

Finnick looked at her, his green eyes squinting because of the sun. Or maybe he was trying to get a good look at her. "Oh, come on," he cajoled. "It'll dry."

She was saved from responding when Mrs. Appleby walked outside. She took one look and ordered the children back inside.

Annie wanted to say "I told you so" when Finnick received his lashing, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn't hate him _that_ much.

XxX

As the year went by, Annie felt herself noticing Finnick more and more. There wasn't a day he didn't receive a palm lashing or some other sort of punishment. He was loud, but he was funny, she had to admit.

And he was smart, too. Not smart like Annie, who never slouched in class, always brought her supplies and did her homework, and raised her hand to answer questions in class. He borrowed and lost supplies every day, poked fun at the teacher, and his handwriting was illegible at best.

But every time test grades were announced, the teacher would proudly announce Annie's name on the list of perfect scores, scrunch up her face, and quietly spit out Finnick's name as another of the perfect scorers.

But as Annie snuck glances at Finnick, she noticed he would always stare longingly at the ocean through the window. She wondered what was so great about the water that distracted an intelligent boy from his studies.

**Hello again! This is a slightly longer chapter than the others (I tried), and I promise they will just get longer from here on out (I feel repetitive, but it's TRUE!).**

**The song I picked was "ABC" by the amazing Jackson 5. I kind of imagined Finnick serenading Annie from on top of a lunch table with that song, and of course getting severely punished.**

**SO, review, favorite, and follow, or you'll get a palm lashing. Just kidding, I feel like bullying you into reviews won't help matters, but seriously, DO IT! Oh, and if you could check out my new one-shot "the Mockingjay Pin," I'd really appreciate it. It's about Haymitch, Maysilee, and Mrs. Undersee, and I'm rather proud of it, so…yeah.**

**New update tomorrow! Hopefully….**


	7. Year Six: Sink or Swim

**Year Six- ****S****ink ****o****r ****S****wim**

**Disclaimer: Why don't you save me the trouble and take the words out of my mouth?**

He loved swimming. And he loved the water.

In fact, he loved both of those things so much that he dragged himself out of his bed at three every morning so he could get two and a half hours of swimming every morning before he went to school at six.

It was hard to get out of the water once he was in; in fact, he was usually late to school because he lost track of time swimming with the fishes.

But right now, it wasn't morning. Finnick had dashed out of the school, stopping only for a second at his house to drop his schoolbooks and leave his homework untouched. He also grabbed a small tuna sandwich (his only food all day); it was going to be a long walk.

Finnick walked a good half hour through dense undergrowth and uncivilized areas before he reached his favorite spot on the coast. His father had showed it to him a few months ago, claiming nobody else knew about it. It immediately became Finnick's favorite place, quiet and calm except for the occasional sailboat. He didn't come here in the morning because it was too far; besides, even the earliest of the fishermen, like Finnick's father, didn't arrive until four.

This place was teeming with fish, mainly because the Odairs were the only ones to fish here. Finnick submerged his head, enjoying wading with the fish he normally tried to catch. He normally came down with his fishing pole, handmade by his dad's talented hands, but today he just enjoyed the calm feeling of the water surrounding him on every side, and practiced his strokes, from the simple paddle, to his favorite, the corkscrew, where he turned round and round in the clear water.

He couldn't wait till he was able to scrap his boring old rod and learn to fish with the trident like his father. But in District Four, you learned to fish with tridents when you were eight, and never before. The Capitol didn't want to hand out more paychecks than it had to.

Finnick could hear his dad's voice in his head, "Patience is a virtue, Finnick; patience is a virtue. The fishermen that spend hours waiting catch more fish," Finnick groaned. He wanted to learn to fish like a man now! He didn't think he could wait another minute.

Splashing out of the water, Finnick dried himself off and scrounged the beach for a long stick. Finding one, he sharpened it with the end of his gutting knife, making the end sharp and pointy.

In minutes he was back in the water, trying out his new tool. His sharp sea green eyes spied a fish in the water, and his elbow rose. With a barbaric roar, he thrust his "spear" at the tiny flounder.

But it was too quick. It darted out of reach, and Finnick's stick came up laden with seaweed. Finnick grumbled, but collected the seaweed. It would make a good salad if he kept it away from the eyes of Peacekeepers, but it would be better with some fish.

The sun burned on his bare back, but he knit his brows and continued. He would catch _something_ before the day was over. He would. He would. He knew he would, even if it killed him.

He was mid throw when he heard the scream from deeper out in the water. There was a fancy looking sailboat. Finnick had to squint to see the woman, who was yelling, waving her arms, "Help, help! She can't swim!" Her voice was loud, like a Siren.

Finnick didn't have time to think. He jetted into the water, heading towards the deep end where sea life became more vicious.

The water was murkier out here, and his eyes pained from the salt, but he kept pushing forward, his strokes neat, but quick.

She was having trouble keeping her head above water, and she was splashing about. He knew she was going to tire out pretty quick, and then it would be all over. Her eyes were large and afraid. Finnick grit his teeth and paddled faster. The water was becoming chilly, and his arms were getting tired.

Finnick grabbed on to her, and for a second her thrashing brought them both under. He grunted and used every bit of strength to propel the two of them back above water. She was heavy, but he was strong. Using slow, but powerful strokes, he began dragging her towards shore as the woman watched with a worried look on her face. "Save her, save her," she begged, tears running down her face.

Finnick knew they would be all right. Just as long as his muscles didn't give out, and they didn't run into any sharks on their way back.

A good twenty minutes later, they were back on shore. Finnick dragged the girl on to the shore. She was shivering, so Finnick wrapped his arms around her. He was so intent on saving her that he hadn't noticed her, but now he recognized her as the girl from his class. He realized he didn't even know her name, despite being in the same class for three months now.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Her teeth were chattering loudly and she couldn't answer. "What's your name?"

"A-Annie,"

Finnick handed her his tuna sandwich, and her fingers trembled as she held on to it.

"I've got you," he intoned, "I've caught you. Everything's going to be okay now."

**A/N: Hi, hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you liked it, please review and let me know what you liked so I can keep doing that. If you hated it, let me know what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it!**

**And the song is "Songs of Sailor and Sea" by Robert W. Smith, which is actually a concert band piece, but I'm a band nerd, so yeah. I think it really describes how Finnick and Annie feel about the water.**


	8. Year Seven: A Mermaid that Couldn't Swim

**Year Seven- The Mermaid that Couldn't Swim**

**Disclaimer: I don't own "The Hunger Games", disclaimers, or any words of the English language.**

"Come on, Finn-nick!" Annie dragged Finnick up the beach, "You promised you'd play with me!"

Finnick grumbled as he followed her. "That was before you told me what we were playing!"

Annie didn't know if she was allowed to spend time with Finnick. Her mother didn't approve of her spending time with silly fishmongers. Especially not ones with crazy dads. But, Finnick _was_ the one that saved her life.

Either way, the two had become close.

"Come on, Finn!" she called again. "Play mermaids with me!"

Finnick rolled his eyes. "Why can't we fish? Or go looking for Atlantis? Or, I know, let's build a sandcastle. You're great at that!"

"No, Finn," Annie pouted, her lower lip jutting out. "I want to play _mermaids_!"

"I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do. Everyone's heard of the story of Ariel." It was true. _The Little Mermaid_ was a story everyone had heard in District Four. Ariel, a crazy mermaid, had wished desperately to have legs and live on land when she met Perseus, a fisherman, but her father forbade anything of the sort.

Finnick despised the story. Why would anyone want to live on land when they could stay in a perfect utopia down under the sea?

Finnick looked at Annie. "I'm _not_ going to be a mermaid."

She laughed at him. "Of course not, silly. You're going to be Percy, the fisherman. _I'm_ going to be Ariel."

Finnick looked up at the sky. His hands burrowed in his pockets. "You can't be Ariel. You can't be a mermaid. Mermaids know how to swim." He regretted his words as soon as he said them. He had just wanted to get out of this stupid game. He didn't mean to hurt her.

But he had. Her face quivered once and scrunched up. Tears began leaking out of her eyes. "Finnick, why'd you have to say that?" She turned on her heel and ran, her hands brushing away her tears.

Finnick felt terrible. While he generally loved teasing girls, pulling on their pigtails and making them cry, it wasn't like that with Annie. He didn't like seeing tears spilling from her eyes.

He chased after her. His legs were longer, and he caught up with her quickly.

"Annie," he said. She wouldn't look at him. He tried again. "Annie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." She still looked upset. "I'll play mermaids with you. I promise."

She looked at him. She wasn't convinced.

He smiled, his eyes glittering in the sun. "Come on. Finnick Odair doesn't make promises he doesn't intend to keep. I'll play mermaids with you. And I'm sorry I was mean. It was wrong, and I didn't mean it."

Her face unwrinkled and she smiled at him. "All right," she said, "I forgive you. But it better not happen again." She waggled her finger at him and giggled. "Now let's go. We're playing mermaids!"

Finnick groaned as she dragged him off. "Let's get this over with."

Annie began acting out her part, rambling on about how she wanted sea legs so, so bad. Finnick tuned her out, thinking about the fish he could have caught if he had spent the morning alone instead. _Hey_, he thought. _I promised I'd play, not that I'd enjoy it. _Annie looked like she was about done talking, so he leaned forward.

He pressed his lips onto hers mid-sentence. It was a quick kiss, and she was too surprised to really notice it.

"Finn! What was that?" she sputtered out.

"Isn't that what happens at the end of the story? Percy kisses Ariel and she gets her land legs?"

Annie looked at a loss of words, "Well, yes, but first of all, I was only at the part where Ariel first meets Perseus. And- and, kissing's _stupid_!"

Finnick's voice was level. "Well, so is a mermaid that can't swim."

**A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters, actually, so I hope you liked it as much as I did. **

**If you review any one of my stories, I WILL REVIEW BACK! That's a good deal, right? So, review! And follow and favorite, that's good, too.**

**Oh, and the song is "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid. It's pretty self-explanatory why I picked that.**


	9. Year Eight:Teach Him to Fish

**DISCLAIMER: Yeah, I don't own the Hunger Games. I'm not a clone of Suzanne Collins.**

**A/n: Sorry for such a delayed update; I've just been REALLY busy with band auditions and science fair and homework (which I realize is a lame excuse, I'm sorry). **

**I will probably try to update once more this weekend and then not for like two weeks and then I want to update EVERY DAY until I finish this. So PLEASE be patient with me and stick with this story! Thanks!**

**Year Eight- Give a Boy a Fish, Feed Him for a Day, Teach Him to Fish and Feed Him for Life**

"Dad, we've been waiting here forever. There are no fish here. Let's go someplace else!" Today was Finnick's first day of learning to spear fish with tridents. Originally, he had been excited, but boredom was slowly taking over. His shoulders slumped, and he began to whine.

His dad laughed. "It's only been fifteen minutes, Finnick," he said, "Don't worry, the fish will come. You just have to wait,"

The boy sighed and looked up in frustration.

Canna Odair looked down at his son. "Fishing's a lot like life, son. The best things in life are worth waiting for. You've just gotta be patient."

Finnick groaned. He sat down in the shallow water, making a loud splash.

His dad looked down and laughed. "What, you don't believe me?"

Finnick spoke quickly, like a child that didn't care. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. If I just sit around, good things will magically happen to me. Can we go now? This isn't fun."

His dad began to get upset. "Stand up." Finnick obeyed, somewhat begrudgingly. "Every movement you make sends signals to everything around you, sharing not only your location but your intentions."

"So, what am I supposed to do, stop breathing?"

"It's not about stopping; it's about controlling. A calm mind is the best lure there is. Watch." Canna closed his eyes and made sure he was steady on his feet. His body was still, but not tense. His breathing slowed, and he blended in with the logs floating in the water and the tall trees by the edge of the water.

Finnick copied his dad, calming himself and closing his eyes. After a few minutes, his father gently nudged him, put his finger to his lips, and pointed down at the water. A gray tuna surfaced for just a second. Finnick smiled as he threw the net over it, and his father speared it, his muscles rippling as he threw the trident.

The fish was skewered neatly on the trident. Canna gutted and cleaned the fish and placed it inside a bucket.

Soon father and son walked back to the beach, their bucket overflowing with fish. Finnick ran excitedly, peppering his dad with questions. "Why do you use a net, dad? You could have just speared them with your trident. That's what lots of guys do. They don't throw a net over the fish first."

Canna stopped to dole out another life lesson. "That is the arrogant man's way, son. Men who show off, who draw attention, who think themselves infallible; those men soon grow careless and make mistakes. And soon, those men, they will go hungry. But you and I, we will _never_ go hungry." Finnick's father knelt on the ground and picked up a trident like his own, "Here, son. Use our tools wisely."

He began walking up the beach and back towards their home. He turned around to look at Finn. "Are you coming?"

Finnick looked at the trident in his hands, "In a bit," His father walked back toward their house.

Finnick headed back out into the water. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but he slowly calmed himself. He spotted a fish, swimming slowly in the water. He threw the net over it and tried to spear it. But the fish darted away from his grasp and jetted away quickly. Finnick's trident came up with a mass of seaweed.

He wasn't discouraged. He tried all afternoon, practicing all of the skills his father had taught him. His bare back was covered in sunburns, and he was sweating out buckets of water, but he refused to give up. But by the end of the day, all he had to show for his hard work was a huge clump of seaweed, a couple of fancy shells, and a few tufts of sea grass.

"Aargh!" Finnick yelled, and threw his trident to the ground. He sank to his knees in the sand, and buried his face in his hands. What would he be if he wasn't a fisherman? He could be a net maker, but while Finnick could tie exquisite knots (every child in District 4 could), he doubted he could stay still and quiet for that long.

_God, I'm such a failure, _he thought.

"You know, success rarely occurs on the first attempt." Finnick turned around, and his angry eyes caught sight of his father, who had come back. "I didn't catch my first fish by trident 'til I was eleven. Its hard work, but the rewards are worth it." 

Finnick looked at his father, "I know, but I want to catch a fish _now_," his arms were crossed, and he stomped the sand with his feet, creating a puff of dust.

Canna put an arm around his son's shoulders and led him out of the water. "I know, son, but you have to remember, the best fish are the hardest to catch, but the easiest to eat. You'll catch a fish, I promise."

Finnick picked up his trident and followed his dad away from the ocean. He looked down at the trident in his hands. _I'll conquer you one day_, he thought. _You just wait and see._

**A/N: Hi, hope you liked it! So, you know the drill, favorite, follow, and review. Remember, if you review, I review back, so….DO IT!**

**Sorry, there's no Annie in this chapter. There's plenty in the next, though.**

**And the song is "Father to Son" by Phil Collins. I picked it because I imagined it as the advice Canna would be giving Finnick about Annie. **


	10. Year Nine: Shooting Stars

**Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the Hunger Games.**

**Year 9- Shooting Stars**

She walked gently out on to the beach. He was curled up in a ball, his legs tucked up to his chest. Every once in a while, the waves would lap at his feet. He didn't notice, too absorbed in his own troubles. In the moonlight, his youth looked even younger than normal.

"Finn," Annie called out. Her voice was strangled and upset. He turned around to look at her, but didn't acknowledge her in any way. She sat down in the sand near him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just peachy," the sarcasm rang clearly in his voice, but she could sense the hurt underneath.

"Finn, everyone's looking for you. You've got to go back." Her voice was gentle and quiet.

"No," he replied, "I'm never going back." He turned towards her, and she could see the tears glistening on his face. She was worried. Finnick never cried. "I have nothing left to live for. I want to die," His eyes were sunken and hollow.

She gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. "No, Finn! You can't."

He looked at her, calm and leveled. "It wouldn't be hard. There's a riptide just a little out. Eventually the current would win out." He had stood up, and had turned towards the beach. Annie could tell he was serious.

She grabbed his arm. "No, Finn. You can't!" He pulled against her. He was strong, but she was determined. Nobody was drowning tonight. He struggled, and suddenly she whipped him around to look at her.

"Look at me, Finn," she said, and her voice was cold and steely. "Look at my eyes, my face, my smile, and remember them forever. And if you ever have a crazy thought like this ever again, you imagine what would happen to this smile if you left this Earth. This smile would never come back! Do you understand? Never!"

He turned away from her, and collapsed on the ground, sobbing. She had never seen him cry. Never. Not even when a trident had impaled him straight through the hand, not when a puffer fish blew itself up in his hands. She rubbed his back gently. "You can cry. It doesn't make you any less of a man. Everything will be okay."

He looked as if he was just five, even though he was nine, and a big boy, as he claimed proudly. He didn't deserve this. Nobody deserved this.

_They had been out sailing. The salty water was spraying her, and the wind blew in her face. Finnick expertly controlled the sailboat until they reached the small island. He unrolled the blanket, and they played cards while eating their sandwiches._

_ They were almost home when they heard the bell tolling. Bong! Bong! Bong!_

_ Annie looked at Finnick worriedly, "Oh no. Three hits mean a public execution. I don't want to go."_

_ "We have to go," he countered, "The Peacemakers will punish us if we don't. Besides, it's kind of fun watching some crazy drunk be whipped."_

_ "Finn!" she was appalled, "How could you say that?"_

_ He grinned sheepishly, "I was just kidding. But we have to go, or we'll surely be punished. Come on."_

_ She followed him, unsure. She never liked attending whippings or public executions, which were rarer, but she especially had a bad feeling about this one._

_ They arrived, and all she could hear were the cries of outrage by many fishermen. She couldn't see over the crowd, and dust and soot got in her eyes. But Finnick pressed on, holding her hand as he pushed through the crowds._

_ They were stopped suddenly by a Peacekeeper named Nikkoe. Nikkoe was young, only around 23, and he was nicer than the other Peacekeepers, never really pulling his weight around. He had a liking for Finnick, sometimes slipping him pieces of saltwater taffy._

_ He put himself between Finnick and the posts. "Son, I think you should run along home, son. This is not the place for a boy like you. Not right now."_

_ Finnick, usually quite intuitive, was dense right now. He didn't get it. "All kids over eight have to attend public whippings. I need to find my dad and Grandma." He pushed past Nikkoe and reached the center of the crowd._

_ Annie was there when he saw his father in the stocks, barely recognizable, barely conscious. Canna was a bloody mess, the skin on his bare back bloody like a slab of meat._

_ Finnick's breathing was shallow and ragged. He looked like he was about to cry. He moved closer to his father, causing cries of "Don't do it, boy," and "Get that kid out of here,"_

_ Canna Odair's eyes fluttered open as Finnick neared. "Fi- Finnick," he murmured. Finnick nodded and took his dad's hand. All he could think of was Jesus, Jesus being killed by the people. His dad even looked like Jesus, with his curly brown hair and beard. No, no, his dad wouldn't die. Finnick wouldn't let him._

_ "It's me, d-dad," he spoke, and his voice broke, "I'm here."_

_ His dad whispered something unintelligible, but then said, "Finnick, you have to keep up the family business. Remember, the best fish are the hardest to catch. I love you, son. I'm sorry I have to leave. I love you." _

_Blood trailed down the edge of his mouth from the effort. His right arm reached toward his neck, and he pulled off something gold and gleaming: a gold necklace. He placed it in Finnick's hand, "Here, son. It was your mother's. I was going to give it to you when you were older, when you would understand, but that's not an option now. I hope you'll comprehend." If Finnick had a sliver of hope before, it was all gone now._

_ Axel, the Head Peacekeeper, roughly pushed Finnick away. He strode up to where Canna was chained and spat in his face. "You deserve to die. Crazy rebel!" _

_ Finnick heard his dad try to speak, but Canna choked on the blood flowing from his mouth. Axel kicked him, hard. "Wanna speak, rebel? Wanna tell everyone how dumb your crazy ideas are?"_

_ Canna struggled to speak. "I'm happy that I get to die a noble death. May one day all fishermen be f-free!" The exertion of talking caused even more blood to gush out of his mouth, like a red waterfall. He said one last thing. "Finnick, go away. I don't want you to see this."_

_But Finnick couldn't move. His feet were glued to the dusty earth. He gripped Annie's hand so tightly that she was afraid it would fall off. But she knew she wouldn't let go._

_Two Peacekeepers untied Canna, while two others brought in four horses. Finnick had never seen a horse before. All he could think about was how they looked nothing like sea horses. The Peacekeepers tied each of Canna's limbs to a horse. Finnick wanted desperately to shut his eyes. He knew what was going to happen. He had read about this punishment in one of the forbidden books his father had shown him._

_Someone, Finnick didn't know who, put their hands over Finnick's eyes. He pushed them away. He watched with wide pained eyes as the Peacekeepers set the horses running in four different directions. The crowd roared in outrage as Canna's bloody body split into four pieces, but Axel shot a bullet from his pistol and everyone quieted. His father never yelled, never uttered a word. Finnick told himself that when he died, he would die without a cry of pain, die in acceptance like his father._

_Peacekeepers collected the four pieces and tossed them in the ocean, jeering and mocking as they did. This is when Finnick ran. He wrenched his hands free from Annie's iron grip. He had forgotten she was there. He brushed past the people who tried to grab at him, and swerved around Nikkoe, who called at him. He ran on his quick legs, not caring where he ran, just wanted to get as far away from this wretched place as he could._

_He didn't walk, and he got to his special strip of beach in less than twenty minutes. Normally, he would enjoy the beautiful sunset setting where water meets sky, but tonight he hated it. The reds reminded him of the blood gushing and spilling from his father's mouth, the oranges of the wretched Peacekeeper's uniforms, and the pinks of the color that slowly drained from his father's cheeks._

_He was just going to wait here. He felt like he was sailing without a map. And his boat had just been sucked into a whirlpool._

Annie looked at Finnick, his beautiful sea green eyes fresh with sorrow and pain. He was only nine, just like her. No nine-year-old should have to go through this.

"Finn," she said softly. He made some sort of weird noise in response. She draped her arms around him and pulled him close.

"What am I going to do, Annie?" he asked. His voice was strained.

She knew that in his mind, his life was over. His dad was everything to him. She remembered the conversation they had just about a month ago.

_"Annie, I don't think your mom likes me."_

_Annie just laughed, "Why do you think that, Finn?"_

_"She always looks at me like I'm something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't like you hanging around with me."_

_Annie had been walking back from school with Finnick and she stopped. "That's crazy, Finn. You saved my life! The weird looks are only because she thinks your father's crazy. A lot of people in District Four do, actually."_

_Finnick whirled on Annie, "What are you talking about?" he yelled, "My dad's not crazy!"_

_Annie's voice was quiet. She knew Finnick yelled when he was upset, but the anger had never been directed towards her. She was terrified._

_"Finnick, you know about your dad. He's a rebel, always spreading anti-Capitol propaganda. Everyone thinks so." Annie knew it was true. Many a time her mother would come home, talking about Canna Odair's crazy rants and optimistic plans. _

_Finnick looked at her, hate brimming in his eyes. "Oh, so just because everyone thinks it makes it right, huh? Just follow the school of fish into the shark's mouth?"_

_Annie shrunk in on herself. His rage was like a tsunami, "I never said_ I_ thought that,"_

_"You might as well have,"_

_His rage subsided, leaving behind something worse: disappointment. "You know what? Just forget it." He walked away from her, but suddenly turned around, his face knitted back into a scowl, "Just never say anything like that again! I don't care if that's how you feel! Never insult my dad!" He turned away, and walked away from her._

_He never mentioned the incident again, but she knew he hadn't forgotten._

"You were right, Annie," he said, "My dad was just a crazy rebel."

She was unsure before she started, but as she spoke, she knew she was right, "No, Finn, your dad was right. We've been living in the Capitol's shadow for too long. Your father was brave, and he died a noble death." She knew she had said the right thing when Finnick smiled at her. But his smile disappeared.

"Well, I guess his plan is over," he said. "The Capitol wins again."

Annie wasn't as convinced. "Finn, I think your dad wanted you to continue his legacy."

"Nah," Finnick replied, "That was more of his thing, the logical advice and stu-" He looked down at the gold chain in his palm and paused as he thought of what his dad said at the stocks. _You have to keep up the family business_. Canna Odair was never one to be straight-up when he said anything; Finnick was positive his dad wasn't talking about his future as a fisherman.

Finnick sighed. Even if he could be a rebel, all sneaky-like, how was he going to survive? "Annie, who's going to take care of me?"

She had an answer for this, "Your Grandma Mags, of course." She giggled, "Lucky you get to live on the Victor's Village in complete luxury while the rest of us slave trying to meet seafood and shell quotas."

"But who's going to take care of me? Mags can barely take care of herself?"

Annie smiled and hugged Finnick. "I will. You'll be safe with me. Everything's going to be okay."

**Hi, thanks for reading; I really appreciate it!**

**I'll love you forever if you follow, favorite, and especially review! If you review, I review back!**

**And the song for this chapter is "This is Your Song" by Ronan Keating. I think it describes Finnick's relationship with his dad really well.**


	11. Year Ten: The Reel Fisherman

**Disclaimer: I did not create the Hunger Games. I'm not **_**that **_**sadistic. :D**

**Year Ten- The "Reel" Fisherman**

She sat on a blanket on the beach, making pretty necklaces out of the shells she had collected earlier. While District One generally made jewelry for the Capitol, there had been a new craze for seashell necklaces, so the people of District Four found themselves with a new job.

Finnick stood in the shallow water, trying to spear fish with his trident. "Annie!" he called, "Annie, did you see that? I almost had it!"

She looked up, "Yeah, Finn, maybe one day you might actually catch something other than seaweed," She laughed. Finn didn't get fish every time, but he was better than those show-off boys who tried to impress her. And he had gained a lot of muscles from throwing that trident. Not that she noticed of anything.

"Oh yeah?" Finn said jokingly. "If you think it's that easy, why don't you come into the water and catch one?!" He waded out of the water and threw a clump of seaweed at Annie, who screamed and dodged it, tripping over the blanket under her feet and tumbling into the sand.

"Very funny, Finn," she said sarcastically, picking herself and dusting the grainy sand from her elbows. She was glad. After his father's graphic death last year, she was worried that Finnick would never be the same again. He seemed older and wiser (tragic experiences did that to you) and he was quieter. But underneath all that she could see he was still the same loud, obnoxious flirt.

Finnick laid down on her blanket and looked up at the sky, "Seriously, Annie. How have you lived in District Four your _whole_ life and never learned how to swim? I mean, it's _practically_ a criminal offense."

This time, unlike when they were seven, Annie didn't cry. Instead, she folded her arms and replied, "I never learned because I never had to." Her lower lip jutted out humorously. She pulled the blanket out from under Finnick and placed it a couple feet away. "My parents make nets for a living. No swimming necessary."

She sat down on the blanket, "Besides, it's not fitting for a woman of my status to be splashing around in the water like _certain_ fishmongers.

Finnick grinned impishly, "I didn't realize that tying a bunch of fancy knots practically made you a Capitol citizen." He bowed, "Your Highness,"

"It's a lot more civilized then chucking a stick around," She whacked him on the head playfully.

"Well, one day I will get a _real_ trident. And it's because of fishmongers like me that you have food on your table." It was true. While fisherman gave all their seafood to the Capitol, the Capitol rationed out food based on the number of surplus from a District. And fish was the biggest surplus from District Four.

Annie smiled, "It's because of fisherman like your father that we have food on the table. If we relied on you, we'd have starved to death ages ago,"

Finnick pouted jokingly, "Hey! I'm not _that_ bad, and I'm working on it. Besides, catching fish is a _lot_ harder than tying knots."

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

"I bet I could tie a net, _no _problem."

"Yeah, I want to see that." Annie stood up and picked up her things, getting ready to leave.

"Oh, you will, Annie Cresta. And when I win, I'll give you swimming lessons."

"Of course, Finn. I'll try not to die of old age before then," She flipped her hand at him and turned and walked away, her basket on her hip.

He watched her go, a giant grin filling his face.

**A/N: Hi, thanks for reading, and sorry for the long overdue update. I'm on vacation now, so I can update more often now. Yay!**

**Yeah, see that review box down there? Just type something in and hit send, por favor!**

**And the song is "Banana Pancakes" by Jack Johnson, because it kind of shows how Finnick is tricking Annie into believing he's okay.**

**New update tomorrow, hopefully!**


	12. Year Eleven: Buoys Will be Buoys

**Disclaimer: There really isn't much point in suing me. If you want to take all of MY possessions, you'll probably get a few gum wrappers and pieces of lint. **

**Year Eleven- Buoys will be Buoys**

"I'll be back in just a second, Annie. Don't go anywhere," Finnick placed his lunch on a table outside the school and hurried off.

Annie sat up tall and straight on the picnic bench. As if she would leave.

"Excuse me," a boy had walked up to Annie. She recognized him as one of the Peacekeeper's sons, the Head Peacekeeper's if she wasn't mistaken. He had straight blond hair and honey colored eyes, nothing like anyone from District Four. He wasn't smart, not like Finnick and her, but he always studied for his tests and worked hard. She thought he was kind of cute, but she knew she wasn't going to marry a Peacekeeper's son. Not after what happened to Finnick's father.

"Excuse me," he repeated, "Would you like a cookie?"

"Huh?" She realized she had spaced out.

"It's my birthday today, and my pa told me I could bring cookies to the kids in my class. Here. "He offered a small cookie with a pretty beach design painted on it. She took it gratefully. It wasn't often she got to eat something other than seafood.

"Thank you," she said, and she thought maybe he wasn't so bad. But she was jealous that he got to have cookies on his birthday. Hers was on Reaping Day, and everyone was too upset to really care about her.

Hans, who she remembered the boy as, sat down at the table next to her. "Don't tell me you're sitting alone." he said chivalrously.

"I'm not. Actually, Finnick should be here soon."

He wrinkled his nose in disgust, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks for the cookie," she ventured, "And Happy Birthday,"

"You can have this, too." He dug into his pockets and pulled out a piece of saltwater taffy, pink and shaped like a heart, and handed it to her.

He looked like he was about to say more, but a hand had shot out from nowhere and punched him squarely in the face. Blood squirted out of Hans's nose, reminding her painstakingly of Mr. Odair just about two years ago.

She had hoped it would stop there, but Finnick had other plans. He knocked the boy to the ground and continued beating him with his fists. Years of fishing had made him much stronger than the well-fed, but twig-like boy before him. "Finnick, no!" she screamed. Hans was unconscious, his face covered in slowly forming bruises.

Thankfully, the teacher came and broke it up. Hans and Annie were whisked off into the small school infirmary, and Finnick was grabbed by the ear and dragged off for a lecture and punishment.

The whole time, she was worried sick. Not for Hans, who was losing a lot of blood, but for Finnick, who she knew was going to be punished. Their teacher, knowing palm lashings didn't work on Finnick, had brainstormed new, creative punishments to try on him. All sorts of crazy torture: head submerging for almost three minutes, standing on head for rest of the class period, and so many more. She was wife of a Peacekeeper and the mother of Hans (illegally), and he was the defiant boy that torture could not break. Annie was worried sick.

When he arrived in the nurse's office, she did the first thing that came to mind: punched him. She punched him as hard as a girl like her could, which wasn't too hard. "Why'd you go and do something so stupid!"

His voice was like ice, "He was flirting with you,"

"It was his birthday. He offered me a cookie, like he did everyone in the class,"

Finnick looked frustrated, "It wasn't his birthday. If it was his birthday, Mrs. Appleby would have announced it at the beginning of class like she always does."

She knew he was right. "But that was still no reason!"

Finnick looked upset, but the ice in his voice had faded. He looked like a little kid, like he had the night his father died as he crumpled to his knees, "I- I don't know what came over me. I couldn't see him, all I could see was Peacekeeper Axel, and I couldn't just stand around and do nothing this time. Someone had to pay." He buried his face in his hands as Hans lay unconscious, blissfully unaware. The nurse had gone to tend to some other business.

Annie stroked Finnick's bronze locks gently. "What did Mrs. Appleby do?"

His grin slowly returned, "Aw, nothing. She's still looking for a way to break me, but she'll never find one. I guess I take after my dad with the rebellion stuff."

Annie stopped stroking his hair and looked at him. "Yes, but listen, Finn. No more of this rebellion nonsense. You're already going to be in hot water with Axel after he sees the damage you've done to his precious son's face. So you're going to forget the rebellion ideas sprouting in that crazy head of yours and you are going to stay safe in District Four. Safe with me."

**A/N: Honestly, you are amazing if you've stuck around this long. **

**The song is "Jealous Guy" by John Lennon, which describes Finnick's feelings (kinda) towards Hans. The original is amazing, but there are some really cool covers, namely one by Liz Gillies.**

**Thanks for reading! **


	13. Year Twelve: Beating the Odds

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins.**

**Year Twelve- Beating the Odds**

"I have a surprise for you, Annie."

They were out early; it was bright and early in the morning, but Annie didn't feel like smiling. She was too afraid.

Finnick held out a piece of taffy. "Here, it's for you. Happy Hunger Games!" He gave her saltwater taffy every day, being able to afford that now that he lived with his Grandma Mags, a victor. She didn't see what was so special about today.

"Finnick, I'm scared," she confessed. She had every right to be. Today was their first reaping.

"Chill out, Annie," he was surprised, "Your name is only in there once, and District Four is a huge district!"

She had been looking at the horizon, but she whirled around to face him, "I'm not worried about me, Finn. I'm worried about you."

He grinned, "I'll be fine. Besides, District Four is a Career District. Even if I get picked, which I won't, the odds will still be in my favor."

She wasn't convinced. "How many times is your name in there, Finn?"

The cheeky smile dropped off his face, and he muttered quietly, "Thirteen."

_He was walking home, carrying a huge bag of flour and balancing a small jug of oil._

_At first, she thought he was just helping out Mags, who was ancient and weak at eighty, but realized the truth when she noticed the frail, weak man hobbling next to him. It dawned on her that it was the seventh of May._

_"Finn, what are you doing?"_

_He looked at her, "One sec," he grunted and placed the bag near the poor man's house, who thanked him profusely._

_Annie waited till Finnick came back to explode, "Finnick, what the heck are you doing!"_

_"Giving Mr. Triton his groceries,"_

_She wasn't convinced, "Finnick Andre Odair, was that tesserae?"_

_He was never one to lie. "Yeah," he said quietly. In District Four, you could apply for tesserae when you turned eleven._

_She was confused, "Why would you need tesserae, Finn?"_

_"It's not for me. It's for Mr. Triton."_

_She was shocked, "You got tesserae for him? But why?"_

_"Yeah. They've been starving ever since the boating accident that killed his son and his grandkids aren't old enough to apply."_

_"But-but Finn," she was baffled; "You're rich. Mags has more than enough with her victor's pension. Why don't you just give them some of that?"_

_His voice began rising slowly, "You know I can't do that, Annie! It's illegal for a Victor to give food out to anyone that is not blood related! And as you said, Axel has hawk eyes on me! What else could I do?"_

_Her voice was quiet, "You could do nothing. You promised me you'd be safe."_

_That broke him, "So I'm supposed to sit around and watch people starve to death because of circumstance! This is what my father meant by rebellion! He wanted me to help people! We don't have to start a war! We just gotta help each other!"_

_He gave her the kicker, the one that made her heart wrench, "You just don't get it! You've never had to go to bed without dinner because there wasn't any dinner to cook! You've never felt that emptiness in your stomach that you can't ignore! I have, Annie, so I'm going to help!"_

_He took one look at her face and pulled her into his arms. She sobbed into his shirt, soaking it. "I- I ju- just don't wanna y-ou t-to get h-hurt," she cried._

_His arms were strong around her, holding her up. He rubbed circles into her back. "I'll be safe," he assured her._

_Tears streaked her face, but she looked up at him," Is that a bet?"_

_He smiled, "No, it's a promise,"_

She was terrified.

Finnick looked at her. "It'll be okay," he said, "It won't be me."

She felt tears pooling in her eyes again, "What if it is?"

He smirked, "Maybe someone will volunteer for me."

She knew that wasn't true. Even though District Four was considered a Career District, they weren't hardcore like One or Two. Their training facility was in shambles, and no one had volunteered in over a decade. And most importantly, Annie thought, even though Four had the third most number of victors, their eight were nothing compared to the twenty seven and nineteen of Districts Two and One, respectively. She had no clue why Fours got into the Career group (maybe cause they could use tridents, maybe cause they could catch fish, or maybe their good looks got sponsors), but she knew that they were usually the first Careers killed.

The bell tolled, signifying the Reaping in ten minutes. Finnick gripped Annie's hand and led her towards the Justice Building. She held on tightly and knew that no matter what happened she wouldn't let go. As they walked, he gently tugged on her ponytail, smirking when she turned around. It was obvious they both remembered the time years ago.

Finnick whispered, "Don't forget, I promised I'd be safe, and Finnick Odair doesn't make promises he doesn't intend to keep."

He held her hand until they had to sign in and he had to let go. He let the lady prick his finger and place the blood on the paper next to his name without a word of complaint because he had promised Annie he would behave.

Twelve year old boys and girls were roped into different sections, but the two of them stood at the edge of their sections, holding hands under the fancy velvet rope that separated them.

He ignored the boring Treaty of Treason and instead focused on Annie. She always looked good, but today she looked spectacular. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back neatly into one pigtail tied by a ribbon. Her dress was blue silk, most likely expensive. It looked like water right before a tsunami, calm and beautiful. And it matched her ocean blue eyes that were dappled with light purple in the light. The only tiny flaw was the tiny stray tear that trickled down her cheek. Finnick couldn't take his eyes off of her, and that was fine with him. He didn't want to see the dreaded sight before his eyes.

Finnick was finally able to pull his eyes away from Annie when Sprinkle, their ditsy escort took to the stage. She beamed and called out, "It's time for our lovely lady tribute!"

Finnick scooped up Annie's hand and squeezed tightly. He realized that she wasn't the only frightened one; he too was dreading the fact that her name might be pulled out of the ball. Her name was one in thousands, but that still gave her a chance of being called. And Finnick knew his father's suspicions were likely true; the Gamemakers rigged the drawing to create an interesting Game. And with Axel and his illegal wife out to get him, he knew it was a possibility that this was a new punishment. What better way to torture the unharmable than to torture someone he loves?

Finnick knew Annie didn't stand a chance if she was reaped. How would the girl who flashed him sweet, innocent smiles, who tried to revive the fish he caught because 'they deserve a life too', kill twenty three and remain the last one standing?

He was making himself so paranoid with these thoughts that he didn't even realize what was going on until he felt the circulation in his hand being cut off by Annie's grip. He looked up, worried that his fears had been true and she had been chosen.

Instead, he looked up and saw River McWilliams, a girl he recognized as an eighteen year old from school on the stage. He let out a sigh of relief, but Annie's face still held a look of terror.

Sprinkle unfolded the slip of paper from the boy's bowl and read it loud and clear. "Dylan Delphin!" Annie's hand relaxed.

Finnick couldn't remember anything else, the next thing he knew he was making his way back home. His fingers were still curled around Annie's, and he didn't plan on letting go anytime soon. He trembled a little, his body releasing the tautness that came with the fear. He realized how worried he had been, not for himself, but for Annie. He sighed in relief.

One year down, six to go.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review~**

**Song is "I Won't Let Go" by the amazing Rascal Flatts. It's pretty self-explanatory.**

**I'll update soon, promise!**


	14. Year Thirteen: Like Father, Like Son

**Disclaimer: Don't own the Hunger Games. Not Snow.**

**Year 13- Like Father, Like Son**

She had been walking home when she heard his voice.

He usually had three modes: his regular voice, his seductive voice, which he used when the older girls were around and he wanted them to leave him alone (she didn't see the logic in that), and his broken voice, the voice that made you want to wrap your arms around him and never let go.

But this voice was different. She had walked around the corner when she saw him, his face red in anger, his arms gesticulating like crazy.

A little boy ran to her. She recognized him as Eddy Daniels, the funny if not slightly clueless six-year old who often made her laugh with his antics. "Annie, Annie, you've got to help Finnick!"

That's when she noticed Axel arguing with Finnick. "What happened?" She wanted desperately to get near Finnick, to tell him to cool off, but she knew that wouldn't be the best thing to do right now.

Eddy gulped. "I was out fishing for oysters," he said. Eddy's family collected oysters for the Capitol. "Today's my ma's birthday, and I wanted to get her a special present," He was near tears. Annie had never seen Eddy, the boy that would do anything for a laugh, cry.

"It's okay, Eddy. Keep going." She kept glancing over at the argument, which got more heated by the second. She listened to Eddy distractedly.

"I found the perfect pearl," He held it up to show her. It was supple and luscious, probably the most beautiful pearl she had ever seen. "I figured the Peacekeepers wouldn't notice, so I pocketed it and hurried home, excited to give it to Ma. I could imagine the look on her face when she saw it. I was halfway home when Peacekeeper Axel stopped me. He asked to search my pockets and he found the pearl. He told me I would be whipped, and I screamed. Finnick was right there and he began yelling."

Annie looked up. Finnick had boiled over. She shut her eyes, but not before she saw him swing an uppercut at Axel's face. Axel yelled and grabbed his jaw. Peacekeepers, who had been standing nearby, grabbed Finnick by the arms and dragged him away.

Annie was terrified. What were they going to do to him?

Her feet felt bolted to the ground and she probably wouldn't have moved if it weren't for Eddy, who yanked on her arm. "Let's go, Annie! We have to see what they're doing to him!"

She followed him unwillingly. She felt her heart sink as she neared the Town Square. That's where they kept the posts, the gallows, and the stocks. She trembled. Finnick had gone too far this time.

Annie didn't hear the bells toll, as the always did at a public whipping, punishment or- she gulped- execution. Was it because the crowd would not approve of punishment of a minor? It never stopped them before. Could it be because they were going to do something illegal? She trembled. She remembered the day Finnick had punched Hans, and she knew his dad wasn't going to forget that.

"Eddy, go home," she said, "I don't want you to see this." She remembered the day Canna had told Finnick the same thing, and she winced.

Eddy remained stubborn, "No, I have to stay. This is all my fault!"

Annie didn't have the time to argue.

Axel was screaming at Finnick. "You insolent brat! You deserve to be killed! Unfortunately, the law forbids it!"

"Not that you care what's legal and what's not, since you're the one illegally marrying. How are Hans and Mrs. Appleby, by the way?

_Don't tempt him, _she thought.

Axel's face turned red. Annie didn't know if it was from anger of embarrassment, but she was betting on anger, "Hans was fine, until you decided not to keep your fists to yourself."

Finnick laughed, "You certainly care a lot for a child you're not supposed to have,"

Annie groaned inwardly, _Stop being a hero, Finn._

That was enough for Axel. He grabbed Finnick's wrists and dragged him over to the whipping posts, where he tied his arms with rope. Finnick didn't fight, just held his head high in the air. Like father, like son.

Annie wanted to scream, she wanted to shout. She could feel the bile rising in her throat as Axel raised his whip, glinting in the sun.

She screamed, wanting to grab the whip out of his hands.

It was Eddy that brought her back to reality. He was bawling. "This is my entire fault! I never should have taken the stupid pearl!"

She ran toward Finnick. His half-closed eyes fixed on her. "Get out of here, Annie," he croaked. She didn't listen.

She screamed in pain as she felt a bullet graze the skin on her cheek. It was like someone had dragged a gutting knife across the delicate skin on her face. She clutched her cheek and lay on the soft ground.

She didn't know when she came to, but she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was Nikkoe, who had untied Finnick and was dragging his unconscious body near Mags, who had arrived and was wringing her hands nervously. Eddy was nowhere in sight, and she was thankful. Hopefully his dad had come and taken him home.

Finnick's eyes fluttered open, and she noticed his vibrant sea green eyes were dull, lifeless and fading.

He reached out his hand, his delicate, talented fingers lightly stroking the wound on her cheek. "I told you to get out of there. It's no place for girls like you,"

His blood was staining the sand. A tiny tear rolled out of her eye, stinging the cut on her cheek. "I was only trying to protect you."

He tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "It's s'posed to be the other way around."

She hurried home, being sent away by the adults who were taking care of Finnick.

She wanted to get her cut cleaned, before it became infected.

She ran into her house, right into her mother's arms. "Annie, where were you? What happened to your cheek?"

Annie spoke quietly, knowing her mother would be upset, "I was grazed by a bullet."

It got the predicted reaction from her. "Were you at the whipping?"

"Yeah"

News travelled fast around District Four, "Did that insolent boy shoot you? He's just like his father, crazy and dysfunctional."

"No,"

"I don't know why you want to hang out with that boy. He's nothing but trouble."

"He saved my life!" This was the first time she had ever yelled at her mom.

"Only to endanger it now!" She sprayed on hydrogen peroxide, and taped a piece of gauze to Annie's face. "Anyways, there's someone waiting for you in the lounge."

Annie walked to the lounge, only to find the boy with the odd honey colored eyes sitting tall and straight on their couch. "Hello, Annie," he said timidly.

Annie whirled around, catching her mother's gaze, "Why is he here?"

"Annie," he mother chided, "That's no way to talk, especially to such a polite and courteous boy." It was true. Hans looked like the type of boy that would be polite to her parents and be nice to her pets.

"I'm here so the two of us can spend time together," he said. "I hope we can get to know each other better. Your mother invited me over."

Immediately, she understood what was going on. Peacekeeper Axel was a man of high stature. Getting a connection to him could boost status. "Mom, I won't spend time with him. His father was the one that shot me." She didn't know this for sure, but hey, she needed an argument.

Her mother tried to say something, but Annie had already turned around and stalked out the door. Hans's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he tried to think of something to say, but she didn't bother waiting to hear it.

She didn't realize she was at the Victor's Village until she was there. She didn't realize she had run until she heard the shallow gasps of breath coming from her body.

Annie cautiously neared Mags's house. She had no idea if she was allowed to be here, but she had to see him.

Annie gently knocked on the door. No answer. She tried again, louder. Nothing again. She twisted the doorknob, finding the house to be open.

_Breaking and entering, _she thought. She had certainly turned into a rebel since she met Finnick.

She had never been in his house before, him considering his special (illegal) strip of beach his real home. She was astounded by the sheer size of it. The kitchen was the size of her whole house, and her family was one of the wealthier in District Four.

He was lying in his bed facedown, dead to the world, clinging to the last shreds of life. She could see the skin grafts on his back; literally all his skin had been peeled away by the whip. A strong morphling drip was attached to his arm, and anti-infection drugs were steadily flowing into his system. _Good thing Mags is a victor_, she thought, _or he'd probably be dead right now_.

Annie hoped he wasn't on sleep syrup; she wanted to see his eyes. She gently shook his shoulder.

He groaned, the feathery touch causing searing pain despite the morphling. "A-Annie, is that you?"

She started crying, tears that had been held back too long. She sobbed until there was no more water in the girl from the sea. She felt a gentle finger on her shoulder. "Don't cry. It doesn't suit your face."

"Why did you do that, Finn?" she asked between hiccups.

"Because it was the right thing to do."

She wanted to slap him. Stupid hero with his morals and principles.

"I- I was so scared." She spluttered.

"I'm going to be fine. I promise I'll be careful."

"No, promise me more. Promise me you'll never leave."

"I promise." His voice was barely a whisper, but she heard it loud and clear.

His eyes were fluttering closed, when she told him, "My mom wants me to be friends with Hans."

His eyes jolted open. "Please tell me you said no."

She smiled, "Of course. Although I might change my mind if you go back on your word."

"Are you kidding? Finnick Odair doesn't make promises he doesn't intend to keep."

"Good," she smiled, stroking his bronze hair until his fitful sleep calmed.

**A/N: Hi, thanks for reading. Reviews make me unbelievably happy, so please review. If you review, I review back! :D**

**Sorry, everything is kind of dark (no more pigtail pulling and angels); it only gets worse. But I guess that's kind of how life is: like a Polaroid picture: the longer you wait, the sharper the edges get.**

**Song is "Imagine" by John Lennon, but there's a really cool cover by Jack Johnson with ocean waves in the background that fits the mood a little bit better.**

**The next chapter is Finnick's games (consider it my Christmas present to you). And for the chapter after that, I'm looking for a lot of water related puns. Let me know if you know any good ones, and I'll credit you in the chapter! :D:D**

**Thanks!**


	15. Year Fourteen: There Are No Winners

**Year Fourteen- There Are No Winners**

**Disclaimer: This is a disclaimer.**

**A/N: by the way, Mags doesn't have a garbled voice until the end of this chapter, but she still is old and shriveled (and underestimated)**

**Also, just a warning, it does get a little bit…mature…at the end. Not anything bad, but just in case. It was awkward to write, because that's not really my style, but it's not explicit or anything. But, fair warning in case you're really squeamish.**

"I'm scared, Finn,"

"You're always scared, Annie. District Four is huge. Neither of us is going to get picked,"

"I know, but _still_. I'm scared. And today's Friday, a bad day for fishermen,"

He sighed, "All right, all right." He groaned, and pulled out a small, shiny necklace. The pendant was a seagull, or maybe a Mockingjay. Finnick wasn't sure. "I was going to give you this to you for your birthday _after_ the Reaping, but since you're _so_ freaked out, I'll give it to you now. Everyone knows seagulls are good luck,"

She looked at him, "Isn't this the necklace your father gave you? This belongs to your mom! You can't give it to me!"

"Well, it's not very manly for me to go around wearing that. And, I like seeing it on you." He helped her put it around her slim neck. "It's always been my lucky charm, and I want it to become yours.

They walked to the Justice Building together, holding hands and knowing they would never let go.

-'-(

Their sections were not anywhere near each other, and Annie was disappointed. She would need his strength to get through this.

She had bought a new dress for the occasion. It was yellow, and it sparkled in the sunlight. But that wasn't important right now.

She looked over to the side, and saw Peacekeeper Axel leaning against the wall, his face smug as if he knew something no one else did. _Shouldn't he be worried? _She thought, _Hans is in the reaping as well. _But she was too worried to give this a second thought. Too worried about Finnick and his thirty nine entries.

Mayor Oceanus took to the stage. He was probably the most attractive of the mayors in Panem, with his sea green eyes that still glistened despite his fifty years (it seemed young people never became mayor).

He droned on about the Treaty of Treason and the Dark Days, but Annie felt her mind drift off and her eyes wander. She looked for Finnick in the sea of people, but couldn't find him. On the stage she could see Mags and Rain, the two mentors, sitting stiffly on the stage.

Sprinkle Crumpet sashayed on to the stage, ready to pick out the names of the damned with her freshly glossed fingernails. Her face was more layered with makeup than normal, and under the fake smile, Annie could sense foreboding.

"Ladiessss firrssst!" she trilled, reaching into the bucket and pulling out a folded slip of creamy paper. "Arielle Clanworthy!"

Annie couldn't say she felt bad for her. She normally wouldn't know any of the eighteen year olds, but Arielle was universally hated by just about everyone in District Four. She was just a poor fishmonger's daughter, but she carried herself as if she had Capitol blood. She and her posse of puppets were constantly putting down other girls. Oh, and she had a huge crush on Finnick.

Annie was used to older girls crowding around the small lunch table Finnick and her shared. All these crazy girls trying to catch Finnick Odair's eye. Finnick did humor them; he was always good with girls and it was obvious he liked the attention. But Annie was jealous, and when Finn saw she was upset, he basically lost interest.

But Arielle, she never really gave up, still continuing to flirt with Finn. This annoyed him to the point where he loudly told her he didn't like her and told her to leave. She stopped coming after that, and things between them were chillier than ice water.

So, yeah, no one was really upset. Annie looked around, and even the Clanworthy's weren't crying. She felt sorta bad for Arielle, but was glad it wasn't someone else.

Arielle had made it to the stage, and Sprinkle reached into the boy's bowl and pulled out another slip of folded paper. "Finnick Odair!"

She looked in the fourteen year old boys section, and noticed a boy making his way towards the stage as confidently as possible under the circumstances. He had bronze hair, almost golden skin, and these piercing, beautiful sea green eyes. _Poor thing,_ she thought, _Fourteen year olds never win._ There had never been any one under fifteen that won in the history of Panem.

She noticed the Triton's and several other families quietly crying. It snapped her back to reality. That was Finnick up on the stage! _Her Finnick!_

He looked straight at her, and she could read his face. _Are you all right, Annie?_

She wanted to roll her eyes. Somebody was playing Superman again. He was the one racing to near death, and he was asking her if _she_ was okay?

But the truth was she was scared. Because the good guy didn't always win.

-'-(

She unclasped the necklace. "Here, you should have it back. It will remind you of home."

"No, I don't want it."

"Take it,"

"No," he pushed it away and looked at the floor, "It was my gift to you. I want it to remind you of me when I'm gone." He said it like he would only be gone for a few weeks of the Games, but they both knew what he really meant.

"You need something to remember me by," she said, trying to convince him to take back his family heirloom.

"It'll be hard for me to forget you," He gave her a small grin, but it was gloomy and depressed.

Annie pulled out a watch, made out of woven rope with inlaid shell beads and pearls. It had been her mother's gift to her for her birthday. "Here," she spoke, fastening the watch on to Finnick's wrist, "Will you take this, as your district token?"

"Of course, Annie," he said, looking down at the beautiful watch, glad she had given up on giving back the necklace. The intricate knots reminded him of something else, something from four years ago. "I finished that net, you know,"

She didn't know why, but those words caused tears to leak from her eyes. "Y-you have to come back, F-Finn! You promised you'd never leave me!"

His arms snaked around her, and he held her close. "I will. Finnick Odair doesn't make promises he doesn't intend to keep." Annie sniffled into his shirt. "Besides, I still owe you those swimming lessons.

He pulled her out from his shirt and leaned in. She smelled like cinnamon, with just a touch of daisy. Her lips were soft, and though she was inexperienced, she was good. Finnick relished in their first real kiss, wishing it would never end.

'But everything does. She was the one to pull away. "F-Finn?"

Finnick hung his head, "I had to do that just once, in case I never got a chance to do it again."

-"-(

"Alright, this is the way we do this. You can pick your mentor, and that'll be who will help you through this um…adventure," Rain said.

Finnick shoveled in as much food as he could hold; although he lived in the Victor's Village, he was never used to such fare. Although the oysters _were_ slimy and the lobster too raw. And the sight of the Avoxes disgusted him. Cutting off tongues was not uncommon in District Four, and Finnick was very familiar with the likes of his servants.

Arielle looked at Finnick disgustedly. She was being very lady-like, using her knife and fork, and dabbing at her lips with a napkin. Finnick rolled his eyes. These were the last moments of your life. No use wasting them on manners.

"Finnick, which of us would you like?" Rain asked. It was obvious he felt bad for the young boy, who was probably not going to come out of the arena alive.

"Mags,"

Arielle dropped her fork with a clatter, and it made a surprised face. "I know she's your grandmother, but really? She can barely move, and you need all the help you can get!"

Finnick looked at the kinder Rain for help, but he too shrugged, "I think you'd be better off with me, lad."

"No, I want Mags. That's final." Because even kindly, shriveled old Mags had won the Games somehow.

"Well, that's fine with me!" Arielle spat. She dragged Rain away, "Let's go plan my strategy!"

Mags whispered, "Pretty boy."

"Pretty boy?"

Mags nodded.

Finnick wasn't sure exactly what she had in mind.

-"-(

"Oh my goodness, you are absolutely gorgeous!"

Finnick grimaced as Blotch, his new stylist, took in every inch of him. He felt awkward lying naked in front of a lady old enough to be his mom, listening to her gush over him and watch her eyes ogle.

"Are you going to put me in any clothes?"

She giggled. "Yeah, one sec hon. I'm busy."

He rolled his eyes, trying to get his thoughts away from the pink haired stylist and to Annie. Beautiful, Annie, who would be seeing him on TV in less than a few hours. He blushed, hoping he would have a few layers of fabric covering him.

He got his wish, but barely. The stylists had dressed Arielle and him up as Ariel and Perseus. But he knew Perseus dressed much more modestly than him. He was clad in a pair of ocean blue, er… boxers. He had been oiled down in some strange oil that left his muscles glowing. At least they didn't draw them on like they did to some of the tributes in Districts Ten and Twelve, he thought.

Arielle walked out. She was dressed as Ariel (ha, ha) in a mermaid's tail skirt and the classic shell top. She looked stunning, too, but Finnick couldn't stop thinking of how much better Annie would have looked.

_No, Finn, _he told himself,_ you don't want Annie here. She's safe and sound back in District Four._

He felt the Four chariot begin to slowly move. And soon they were out in the open. He could hear the crowds cheering for them, and he felt briefly disgusted, but in the nick of time he remembered how important acting was in the Games.

He reached for Arielle's hand, thinking some form of unity between them would surely spark some rebellion, but she angrily yanked her hand from his. "Get away!" she hissed. _Hmph_, he thought, _before, she would have been ecstatic to hold my hand._

The crowds here were crazy for him. Women (and men) ogled him even less conspicuously than Blotch. He was disgusted by the crudeness of this horrible, horrible city. _Panem et Circuses_, his father had once said. How true, how true.

Finnick thought of Annie, his girl watching back home. And blew her a kiss. They had made their little "thing" official when he kissed her in the Justice Building before he left, and he wanted her to remember that he loved her till he died, and after that, too. He blew her another kiss, and winked flirtatiously.

This made the crowd wild. Literally everyone in the audience thought the kiss was meant for them. _How untrue. _

During the anthem, most of the time was spent on the District Four Chariot. Finnick tried to smirk, but under the cameras, it came out as more of flirtatious grin.

Finnick felt something sharp prick his pointer finger and he looked down. A sharp thorn from a beautiful red rose had embedded itself in his finger. That's when he saw the cascade of roses being tossed into Districts Four's chariot. The crowd loved them.

Finnick picked up one of the roses and delicately sniffed it. He gave the thrower a wave, causing her to faint. He wanted to roll his eyes, but abstained.

He could feel Arielle's eyes on him. She was smiling, everywhere but her eyes, which were hard and steely. "Don't think just because you've got all these women wooed you'll come home. A Fourteen year old has never, ever won, and don't think you will either." She stuck the thorn of a red rose into his arm and twisted.

He looked at her, and she scowled. They had arrived inside the Training Center. Finnick hopped out of his chariot as if it was on fire and dashed off to find Mags.

Arielle stopped and tried to shake clear her thoughts. She groaned as she thought, _that stupid Odair boy put his charm on me, too._

_-'-( _

"It's okay, Finn," he told himself, "You can do this. Just don't make a fool of yourself."

Some lady named Atala had introduced herself as the Head Trainer and had explained the rules. They were set free. Finnick trailed the Careers.

"What do you want, Pretty Boy?" Shimmer, the leader of the Career pack asked him, a smirk clearly visible on his face.

"I uh- want to be in the Career pack."

The rest of them started laughing. "Come on, Shimmer," Arielle said, her arm around him. It was obvious what her plan was: woo the tough one into protecting her until the end. "Let him at least _try_ to show us what he can do."

"All right," Shimmer grinned evilly, "Let's do something easy." He handed Finnick a spear. "Why don't you throw this at that target over there?"

The target was on a wall about three feet away from them, and took up almost all the space on it. Finnick would have to be drunk to miss it.

He felt his face go red in anger (no, no, not embarrassment: anger). Who were they to tell him that he was going to lose? He could dance circles around them and come home, come home to Annie. Just because he was only fourteen didn't mean he couldn't win.

He weighed the spear in his hand. In reality, it was similar to the tridents he loved. He held it in his hands, preparing to throw it at the target. But at the last minute, he turned, and it flew the other way, narrowly missing the Careers. It hit a dummy, skewering it through the neck, and propelled it into the station where the rope tiers were working. The dummy had its neck tangled up in a rope that resembled a noose.

Everyone, including the Gamemakers, who had been very interested in their wine, was staring at him. Finnick grinned. He never knew he was so good, but he guessed the practice had paid off.

Shimmer was blazing. "You could have killed us!"

"Yes, yes I could have. Lucky for you, I didn't want to, because if I did, you would all be dead right now." Finnick turned on his heel, and stalked off. Halfway to the rope tying station, he stopped and turned around. "I trust that I'm part of the Career Alliance now?"

-"-(

His fingers trembled nervously as he held the spear in his hand. What was he going to show the Gamemakers?

_Show them your skills with a trident. _Mags had said. Hard to do when there wasn't a trident in sight. He would have to show them something else.

The Gamemakers were staring at him, waiting for him to begin.

He grinned flirtatiously at them. "Hello, there," he purred.

He took off his shirt in one clean motion and threw it to the ground. One of the female Gamemakers gasped, but quickly covered her mouth with her hand and looked at the ground. But, Finnick noted, she kept trying to look at his pecs from the corner of her eye.

Finnick continued removing his training clothes until not an inch of him was covered. By now, every one of the Gamemakers had their eyes on him, and wouldn't move.

He grinned and struck a ridiculously provocative pose. "You like this?" he asked cheekily, with a trace of seductiveness. The Gamemakers nodded, as if they were in a trance. It was a while before any of them could speak.

"You may leave," the Head Gamemaker said slowly, as if it took a great deal of effort.

Finnick turned towards the door and began walking.

"With your clothes,"

He turned back around and grabbed his uniform, and held it in his arms as he walked back towards the door.

"On,"

He laughed, and quickly enveloped himself back in the itchy fabric of his training clothes. His plan had worked perfectly. Sure, he was going to get like a two or something, but at least he had made a fool of the Gamemakers. Besides, even the Capitol wasn't shallow enough to give him a score on attractiveness, not skill.

Which is why he buried his head in his hands when he saw he had received a ten, the highest score of the year.

-'-(

"You think you're ready for your interview?" Mags asked, straightened his tie. He was wearing just a tie and a pair of slacks; he had no idea what Blotch was thinking.

"Yeah," he replied, "Mags, why do I have to play Pretty Boy? I have Annie back home."

"Everything in the Games is just an act. It's not the best fighter that wins; it's the best actor," She mussed his hair up slightly.

He hung his head, "I know, but I can see Annie back home, listening to me talk about all these pretty women in the Capitol."

"She knows you. She'll know you're just lying to get sponsors."

Finnick hoped so.

But when he found himself on the stage before his interview, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He didn't pay attention until Arielle took the stage.

"Arielle Clanworthy from District Four!" Caesar Flickerman boomed, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

"So, Arielle, how do you feel being in the Capitol?"

She smiled, "Great. I love it." Her voice wavered, and he knew she was lying.

They talked on, and Finnick found himself drifting off, thinking of what he himself would do. He only remembered the last interaction between Arielle and Caesar, and it stuck in his head forever.

"Anyone at home that's waiting for you to come home?" he asked.

And she stared straight into the screen and loudly spoke one word. "No," She stared into the audience, daring them to say anything else.

Finnick was utterly confused. Arielle had her parents, who seemed nice enough to Finn, and she had tons of boys following her around like lovesick puppies because, despite all of her flaws, Arielle Clanworthy was pretty.

But he didn't have much time to dwell on this because he was the next name called up.

He didn't have time to think, so he sauntered onto the stage, his body using muscle memory to do what he had practiced all of yesterday in his room with Mags.

"So, its Finnick Odair, from District Four," Caesar mused, "We've been hearing lots about you, young man. Every lady in the capitol is falling at your feet.

Finnick grinned, showing off his pearly whites. "I would say it's the other way around, what with all these beautiful women in the Capitol." The audience cheered loudly, and Finnick smiled again.

"And you must have some amazing talents. I mean, to be honest, no one expected a ten from you. What did you do?"

Finnick smirked up at the Gamemakers. "Let's just say they liked what they saw."

The audience cheered, and Caesar asked one last question. "Is there anyone back home waiting for you? I mean a lad like you is sure to have quite a following.

Finnick had no clue what to say. He knew he should say no, none of the girls in District Four were anywhere near as amazing as the Capitol fare, but his throat constricted. What would Annie think, watching back home?

_Come on, Finn_, a voice in his head told him. _How many times have you said this when you were practicing interviews with Mags? A billion. Just say it._ But at the same time, another voice, quieter, said, _don't do it, Finn. You'll hurt Annie._

Finnick wished that the gong would go off, signaling the end of his interview, but no such luck. "N-no one at District Four compares to these amazing Capitol women," he said quickly, staring at the ground. He didn't smile, and when he closed his eyes, he could see an image of a broken Annie dancing behind his eyelids.

He walked back to his seat in a daze. _I'm sorry_, Annie, he mumbled quietly, over and over.

He hoped she would forgive him before he died.

-'-(

He sat in the darkness of the night, on the rooftop of the Training Center. He looked up at the moon, its glow bathing him. "Tonight's the last night you're free," he told himself.

He twisted Annie's bracelet round and round his wrist. Shimmer and the others had made fun of him for wearing such a girly accessory, but he didn't care. He wanted a small piece of Annie with him when he died.

He wished she was here with him. No, he didn't wish that. He wanted her back in Four where she was safe.

He knew he wasn't coming home, but he told himself he would fight hard for her. He was going to be with the Careers, so he had more of a chance than some of the others, and he had a girl that would be broken if he didn't come home.

He had never really prayed before in his life, but he started today.

_Dear God,_

_I don't know if you accept last minute prayers, but I really need your help._

_ Please help Annie get over me when I die. She's a pretty girl, nice and sweet, and she could easily find another guy if she tried. I don't want her to be too upset to try._

_ I have a lot of wishes, God, but please don't think me selfish. I only want to come home so that Annie and Mags will not be traumatized. I know what it's like to lose someone you love. It's crippling, and you feel as if you've died. I deserve to die, but I don't believe Annie or Mags deserve that._

_ Like I said, God, I have a lot of wishes. I don't know if there's some sort of limit, but all I ask is one thing._

_ I pray to you so that tomorrow will never come._

_-'-( _

He stepped onto his plate into the glass tube. He didn't expect his wish to come true, but he felt safer somehow since last night.

Finnick gripped Mags's hand tightly, wishing he would never have to let go. She had coaxed some food and water into him earlier, but they hadn't talked, both knowing it would hurt too much.

They had talked a lot of strategy over the last few days, but in all of their preparations, they had never talked about his moment, trying to avoid a source of such large pain.

"I'm sorry," Finnick murmured. And he was. He was the last of kin Mags had in this world, and he too was leaving her. Who was going to take care of her? He remembered how Mags had cried when Canna Odair died; he hoped she wouldn't cry like that during the Games. He wouldn't be able to bear that.

"I'm sorry, too." She replied. He would have asked her why, but the glass case closed around him and he felt him being lifted up into the arena.

_Funny_, he thought. _I'm pretty sure hell is downwards._

_-'-( _

"Okay guys, we've cleared out about ten of them in the Bloodbath and tonight. That leaves just fourteen," Shimmer called out. The rest of the Careers cheered.

Not Finnick, though. His head hurt. He had been responsible for three of the ten deaths, and he wasn't too happy about it. It was easy to kill, hard to live afterwards. But no time to dwell on it. If he wanted to go home to Annie, he would have to kill.

His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten anything for almost a whole day, and despite being a starving fisherman when he was young, Mags's home cooked meals had weakened his resolve to go hungry. But he was too proud to be the first one to ask for food. He rubbed his stomach, gently and lightly tracing circles on his skin.

Almost immediately a silver parachute rained from the sky. Finnick tore open the package, and found a small package containing a loaf of seaweed bread. He held it to his chest, breathing in the heavenly scent. Who would know how much he missed home?

He was about to tear off a chunk when he noticed a small carving at the bottom. He tried to make it out, it looked like a chicken track and he was about to give up, assuming it just a mistaken bread cut or something when he figured it out. It was an A. A for Annie!

He grinned. He could imagine the girl with the worry in her blue eyes hurrying to the Games store, fishing out just enough coins to send him the bread, hoping he would realize that they were always on the same side. Bread was fairly inexpensive, and it was early in the games, but Finnick knew it had been a lot of money for a girl in District Four.

He hugged the bread tighter to his chest. They were on the same side. She had forgiven him. But she wouldn't forgive him if he let himself get killed in these Games.

He knew immediately that he didn't want to share this with the Careers like he was supposed to. This was Annie's, and it belonged to him, and only him. Besides, what the Careers didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Actually, it probably would, but whatever.

He tore off a chunk of bread and popped it in his mouth. He hoped the cameras were on him when he mouthed the words, _I love you._

_-'-( _

He was so sick of this. He wanted to go home. He wanted to die.

It was true; he was having a much easier time than most. If he needed food, they sent him escargot and fancy china plates, too. If his clothes had a tear in them or had a little bit of blood, he was promptly sent a replacement. And if he was in desperate need of a shower, they sent him soap and shampoo as well. Finnick had no idea that Mags's plan had worked so well.

He hadn't let the others know of his loot, not even Arielle. He didn't know why, he just didn't want to. He knew it wasn't from selfishness; it was just a secret, something to hold onto.

There were only seven left now. Four Careers: Shimmer, Arielle, District 2, and him. Three others: the wily one from District 10, the strong one from 7, and the impossible to find one from 6.

Finnick knew the Career alliance would break up after one more death, and he knew from past Games that he wouldn't want to be there when it happened. He was going to leave in a matter of hours, while he was on night-watch, and try to survive on his own.

He hurriedly packed his things into his bag, and hoped he could leave unnoticed. He didn't want to leave in a bloodbath.

Lucky for him, nobody noticed him gone until he was far into the woods.

He began to regret his decision after he had been walking in the woods for a while. Was it dumb to leave the Careers? He was only fourteen and only fifteen and older had ever come out alive. Everyone had established themselves with some sort of skill, everyone except him.

No, that wasn't true. He had one skill; trident. But tridents were not common in the Arena and although the spears were good, he just wasn't as comfortable with them. He wished someone would send him a trident. Trident. Trident.

He sat down, his back against a tree, opened his pack, and munched on some fancy…crackers shaped like the Hunger Games arena, and slurped his lamb stew. He could see Annie, finicky clean Annie, writhing at his bad manners and Finnick grinned.

Life was good. If you could ignore the blood-hungry tributes waiting to kill you.

-'-(

The Games were almost over. Arielle and Shimmer, plus the boy from 7. And Finnick.

Finnick had been trekking through the woods for a day. Arielle and Shimmer were still together to his knowledge. District 7 was on his own. He didn't want to meet up with any of them.

"Shimmer, no!" The scream pierced the air, and traveled between the woods to Finnick's ears. He ran towards it.

""I've had enough of this love act," Shimmer was growling, "That's what killed my brother two years ago. You must think we District One boys are so stupid." Well you're wrong!"

"No, please," Arielle was begging, struggling against Shimmer's grasp.

Finnick was still hidden behind the trees, watching the action in the clearing. He didn't even realize what he was doing until he saw the spear arc through the air and lodge itself in Shimmer's throat. Quick death.

Arielle was panting. She looked up at him, her face a mixture of awe and something Finnick couldn't place. He turned around, beginning to walk away. He couldn't kill her, the audience would hate him, and the Gamemakers would kill him. She called out to him hoarsely. "Please. Don't leave."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because we could have an alliance,"

"This late in the Games? I'm not going to end up killing you at the end. It would look bad." He rebuked, but relented when he saw the look on her face. Pitiful. Upset. The same look Annie had given him when she had forced him to play mermaids with her so many years ago. Did all girls know that look? He sighed, "All right. Come on."

She walked slightly behind him and he wasn't really paying attention to her until he realized he couldn't hear her heavy, labored breathing anymore. "Arielle?"

He turned around, and saw that she had collapsed a bit back. He ran towards her.

Her face was contorted into a grimace, and she was clutching her stomach, her hand covered in blood. Finnick groaned. Shimmer must have gotten his sword into her. How had he not noticed?

It was too late. He knew it, and she knew it. It was the only reason she had wanted an alliance. Nobody wanted to be alone in death, and he was the only company she had. He held her hand gently, asking her if she needed water.

"No," she murmured quietly,. She shut her eyes, but opened them again. "I'm sorry I-I've been s-such a b-witch to you."

"No," he murmured, "It doesn't matter,"

She reached to her neck and pulled off a long gold locket, held it out to him. "Here. Take it,"

He opened it and found two small pictures: one of a younger Arielle and the other of a boy he faintly recognized, but couldn't place.

"That's Wave," she said softly, "My big brother,"

That made sense. Finnick had seen him once or twice, pledging Mr. Odair as his martyr.

"He was part of the Resistance group that your father started. I fell in love with you, thinking you were part of it, which is why I never gave up flirting with you. About three months ago, the Peacekeepers caught them trying to burn some food that was supposed to be sent to the Capitol, and they set him on fire. I was so mad that he died, but you were still alive, and that's why I've been so mean to you. I hope you can forgive me." There were tears in her eyes, and Finnick could tell they weren't fake. "I really loved him," she murmured.

Finnick held her hand, "I do um- forgive you. I'm sorry, too, about your brother."

She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace," I'll be with him soon." She closed her eyes again, but opened them one last time. "You have to win, Finnick. Go home to Annie. It's obvious you love her. You can win, Finnick, I know it."

She closed her eyes, and her body suddenly turned stiff and cold. Finnick felt himself crying over her dead body. _No,_ he told himself. _You don't even know her. You hated her. Stop looking weak._ But the tears never stopped.

It was amazing how one short story could change the way you saw a person entirely.

-'-(

"Welcome to the Hunger Games Tribute Sponsor Shop. How may I help you, ma'am?"

The lady that had just walked in was plump and green. She literally smelled like money, thanks to Moneybags, the new perfume she had bought. Her face had been the victim of numerous plastic surgeries, and she looked, by Capitol standards, absolutely stunning. "Yes, I would like to sponsor Finnick Odair of District Four. I want to send him a gift."

"Sorry ma'am, only money donations allowed. Gift donations are an added 2,000 dollar service fee."

"No problem. I'm made of money,"

"Your tattoos certainly show that, ma'am." She had tattooed herself with hundred dollar bills. The shopkeeper couldn't help but feel bad for Ben Franklin, whose face was tattooed all over this lady.

"Anyways," she laughed flirtatiously, "I want to send a little gift to the pretty boy,"

"You mean Finnick Odair"

She giggled, "Yup. He's so sexy."

The Storeowner looked bored. "Well, what do you want sent?"

She bounced up and down, "Ooh, that fancy new Moneybags perfume! I'm sure he'll appreciate it!"

The Storeowner rolled his eyes, "Maybe you should send him something he could actually _use_,"

"Well, what does he need?"

"He mentioned wanting a trident."

The lady's eyes brightened. "Perfect!" she hissed.

The storekeeper gestured towards a rack of tridents.

"Oh, ew. Don't you have something a bit more, er fancy?"

"Why, yes. Those over there are already splattered with blood." The sarcasm was loud and clear.

-'-(

Finnick trudged along, every bone in his body calling out in agony. The Gamemakers had dried all the water out of the arena, forcing the two left to fight it to the end. Finnick narrowed his eyes. Just him and the boy from Seven. Just one more and he could go home.

But he doubted he could move for much longer, let alone fight to the death. The absence of water was making him anxious, but in a slow, sluggish way. Maybe he should just end it now. It wouldn't be hard. He had more than enough rope to make a noose, and knot tying was easy for him after working for years on the stupid net he'd promised Annie.

He reached into his backpack and yanked out the fancy rope, woven from golden threads. I'll be joining you soon, Dad.

The rope was woven, and he had found a sizable tree when suddenly a voice whispered to him. _Look at my eyes, my face, my smile, and remember them forever. And if you ever have a crazy thought like this ever again, you imagine what would happen to this smile if you left this Earth. This smile would never come back! Do you understand? Never!_

He didn't realize the rope was on the ground until he looked down and realized his foot had gotten tangled in it. _You're not helping, Annie! _He thought. He fixed a stubborn glance upon the sky, willing something to fall from the sky.

Suddenly, a giant silver parachute dropped from the sky. It was giant, almost the size of Finnick himself, and Finnick thudded into a sitting position as it fell into his lap. He had always loved ripping open presents for his birthday, and he was fueled by the same exuberance has he tore off the packaging.

He gasped; it was exactly what he needed. He unwrapped the trident, weighing it in his hands. Perfect, although he could have done without the unnecessary emeralds and rubies studding the handle. It was as if it was made just for him.

He could go home, he could.

He slowly began trudging along. There was no sign of the boy from Seven. Was it possible that he had gotten injured? Would die in a few more seconds?

No such luck. Finnick heard the boy before he could see him. In a second, the other boy was on his back, the hilt of his knife plunged into Finnick's stomach. But Finnick wouldn't go down without a fight. As he fell, he twisted his arm, using the last bit of strength left in his body. His trident pierced the other boy's heart and remained there. Finnick collapsed, and he could see the other boy was on his knees.

Both of them were too weak to get up. They were lying within two feet of each other, utterly paralyzed except for the occasional jerk or moan in pain. Any other tribute could have easily finished off the two of them, but there was no one left.

It was a battle to see who could hold out the longest. The last one living would probably be immediately shipped out of the Arena, where Capitol doctors would work feverishly to bring him back to life.

Finnick wasn't sure which of them was likely to survive. He suspected that the heart wound was deadlier, but he also knew that a lot of vital organs were in the gut area.

The pain was horrible, but he knew he couldn't pull out the sword. It would only make it worse. He heard a long, loud, unbroken scream, and it took him a while to register it as his own. He could see angels, beautiful angels, dressed in white, looking down on him and smiling. One of them had beautiful curly red hair and light blue eyes. Was he in heaven? He blinked, and the image disappeared. Finnick shut his eyes.

He couldn't move, paralyzed by fear or pain or both, but he could hear the awful retching sounds of the boy from District Seven. _Was he choking on his own blood? Shouldn't he be dead by now?_ Of course not, because what would be the entertainment in that? The Capitol audience would much prefer a slow, painful death.

_You've got to stay alive_, he told himself. _You're so close._ _Soon you'll be_ _"safe and sound back in District Four"_

He heard the sound of a boy sobbing, and realized that 'District Seven' was crying. "I wanna –wan-nna go home!" the boy sobbed. Finnick turned his head gingerly, and he saw that instead of tears, blood flowed out of the other boy's eyes.

He looked so small, so helpless as he lay in the undergrowth. An innocent child forced into this terrible world. "I want my m-m-mom!"

_Why couldn't they kill one of them? Why?_

Without realizing what he was doing, Finnick reached his arm out towards the other boy. His fingers tightened around the slowly chilling limb of the one from Seven. The other boy was barely conscious, but Finnick vaguely felt a tightening around his fingers. He smiled, but through the pain, he was sure that it was more of a grimace.

His eyes closed, and he felt at peace.

-'- (

He did not remember much after he was out of the Games, but there was one thing he remembered clearly. Maybe because he saw that scene over and over again in his nightmares.

The crowd was cheering loudly as they presented the Victor. It was him, and he could hardly believe it.

He was having trouble registering sounds and images. From what he had heard so far, he underwent a complete blood transfusion, and his liver, spleen, and gall bladder had been transplanted. He shuddered, thinking of the poor Avox that was sacrificed for the organs throbbing inside of him.

His mind was foggy, and his only thought was her name, repeating over and over again. Annie. Annie. Annie

His interview was a complete blur, and the only thing he recalled from the replay of the Games was Arielle's death. He gasped, and Caesar grabbed his arm, reassuring him. _She's with her brother now, Finn. She's happy now._

But _he_ wasn't. He lacked the strength to put up his gay facade. His mood was upset the whole time, and it wrecked the spirit of the ceremony. The crowd didn't really know what to do.

President Snow, eager to commence the occasion, walked towards Finnick. "Three cheers for our newest and youngest Victor!" He looked like an evil, deranged Santa, his eyes beady like those of snakes, and his face grinning maliciously.

He leaned close to Finn and placed a crown on his head. "Congratulations!" he smiled, everywhere but his python eyes. You could smell the blood and roses on him. Finnick trembled. This guy was as scary as hell. You did not want to double- cross this snake.

Snow turned towards the crowd and they stood up, cheering.

Finnick slumped in his seat. What had the Games done to him?

-'-(

The Capitol seemed to have forgotten his tired interview. They thronged around him like little children around an ice cream man, begging for his autograph and a photo with him.

Finnick was eternally tired, but he had to entertain these foolhardy guests. He hadn't seen Mags in quite a while, not since before the interview, but he thought nothing of it.

A plump, painted lady walked up to him. "Would you like some champagne?"

He fingered the drink, rolling the stem between his thumb and forefinger. He sipped a small amount before spitting the entire thing out. A crowd of fancily dressed sponsors looked over at him.

Rain had walked over to Finnick. He quietly whispered, "Finnick, let's try to maintain some manners. Remember that these are the people that got you out alive."

After that, Finnick just tried to hide in a corner, sulking. It was hard, though. Every five minutes, someone wanted him to sign some weird body part.

It was a glad respite when an Avox walked towards him holding a small piece of stationary, but his expression changed when he read the message.

_Meet me in my private chamber.-C. Snow_

-'-(

"Um, you wanted to uh, see me?"

Snow was leaning back in a large, plush velvet chair. "Ah, yes, Finnick. Please, sit down."

Finnick sat down nervously on another velvet chair facing President Snow. "So, what's u-up?"

"I have a business proposition for you."

"Ummm."

"Finnick, you seem like a smart boy? Why do you think we have the Hunger Games?

"Because you're mean and enjoy torturing innocent kids?"

Snow slapped him across the face, hard. "I don't entertain smartass comments." He calmed down. "The Hunger Games are a punishment to the Districts for the Rebellion and a way to intimidate them so that there are no _future_ rebellions." He paused, "That would mean we would want no sparks of rebellion in our Hunger Games. No holding hands with your competition."

"Oh, well uh- my bad."

Snow stood up. "You realize we could have you executed for this. It's called treason, an act against your country."

Finnick stood up immediately, scanning the rooms for exits.

He felt a slap, again, against his other cheek. His face burned, like someone had set it on fire, and he sat down immediately.

Snow began pacing the room, his hands clasped behind his back, and a look of casualness on his face. Despite all pretenses of an agreement, it was obvious to both who had the power.

"Unfortunately, I can't kill you because-"

"Because I'm too darn cute?" Finnick interrupted, trying, and failing, once again, to lighten the mood and quiet the butterflies in his stomach.

Snow exhaled. "Let's just get on with it, shall we? As you most certainly know, you are quite popular with the Capitol ladies. Your status as a Victor only makes you more popular."

"So?"

"You know, Finnick, you must think it rather merciful of the Capitol to leave one victor. It would make a lot more sense to just kill all of you, wouldn't it? Why do you think we leave one alive?"

"Can you _please _just get to the point?

Snow sighed, "Contrary to popular belief, none of the tributes _win _the Hunger Games. Only the Capitol _wins_."

"Are you going to shoot me? Because if you are, could you get on with it? The suspense is killing me, no pun intended."

Snow grinned devilishly, "No, Finnick, your fate is actually much worse. Like I said, the women of the Capitol just _adore _you, although after this conversation, I'm not really sure why. And it is up to you to please them."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You have to _please_ them, you know, with your body."

"I don't understand."

"Like-," he sighed, "Did your parents never have this talk with you?"

"Wait, so you want me to be like a _prostitute_?"

"Not '_like a prostitute'_, a prostitute." Snow smirked.

Finnick stood up angrily. "Well, you've got to be kidding me! No freaking way will I ever agree to that! The love of my life is back at District Four, and she's the only one I'm ever gonna- do it with! I _did not_ survive these stupid games just to be a freaking prostitute,"

Snow looked at him for a moment, then smiled evilly, "Well, Finnick, we certainly can't force you into doing anything you don't want to."

Finnick looked at him, breathing heavily from his rant. "Really?" he said, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Nah, you're free to go."

Finnick turned to leave, but was interrupted by Snow. "Actually, Mr. Odair, if you don't mind waiting, I have something important to show you."

Finnick turned around as Snow turned on a large screen on one of the walls. On the screen, he could see Mags near one of the Capitol punch bowls at the party. She grabbed a glass cup and used the ladle to spoon some of the blood red drink into her glass. He began to feel incredibly nervous. "Wh-what's going on?"

"Just shut up and watch, you insolent brat," If there was ever an air of comfort and friendship, it was gone now.

Mags put the glass to her lips and took a long drink. Immediately, she began coughing profusely like she was choking. The blood red drink was bubbling from her throat. Actually, Finnick couldn't tell if it was the punch or her blood that was spilling all over the fancy carpet.

Finnick was on his knees, screaming in horror. "No, stop! You're killing her!"

Snow towered over him, "Darn right I am." He spat, "You see, Finnick, you're never really _free, _anymore."

"No, please stop! I'll do anything! "Finnick was in tears now, "Please, don't kill her!"

Snow just stared at him,

"No, you've got to stop! Stop!"

Snow's expression did not change.

Finnick was bawling, beating the ground with his fists, his head hung "No! I'll do anything! Please!"

Snow glared at him, a look of complete control on his face, "Oh, you'll do anything? Will you be my little slave?"

Finnick glared at him through his tears, "Never," he replied angrily.

Snow stared back, "You know, it doesn't stop here. I could always kill that 'love of your life' back home. Now that would be just _tragic_, wouldn't it?"

Finnick stared at him, hate contorting his features, and then turned back to the screen. Mags was writhing on the ground, with only Rain nearby trying to save her. Of course none of the Capitol citizens could tear their focus away from their stupid dance to help her.

He sighed, tears still flowing down his face, "All right, I'll do it,"

"Do what?" The President was taunting him now.

"I'll be your stupid prostitute, okay! Just, _please_ don't kill my grandmother!"

Snow pressed a button on a remote, and immediately Mags stopped retching, her body calming, Finnick sighed and collapsed, his face in his hands, sobbing. Snow towered over him, his hands crossed and his feet slightly apart. "So. I saved your grandmother. Now, it's your turn to live up to your side of the bargain."

Finnick looked up at him, tears dripping down his face. "Which one of the Capitol ladies wants me first?"

"Oh no, it's not one of them. It's me," he replied.

Finnick looked at him, his eyes widening in terror. He began to back up against the wall, but Snow followed him. "Wait, you? H- how does that even work?"

Snow growled, "I guess you'll see, won't you?"

"But I won!" he could hear himself begging, his voice strained, almost a childlike squeak.

Snow stopped to laugh, "Silly child. There are no "winners". Just some that are luckier than the others. And you, my friend, are one of the unlucky ones.

**A/N: Merry Christmas! I really hope you enjoyed this one, because it is one my favorite chapters. Anyways, sorry for the late-ish update, got busy in the Christmas-y stuff going on today.**

**Please review and let me know what you think. Reviews make me smile!**

**Song is "Finnick Odair" from the "Music of Panem", which is this awesome fan-made album. You can find the song on YouTube. It is an orchestral work, but still pretty sweet. **

**Also, for chapter 17, I'm looking for a lot of cuter, water-related puns. If you have any, please PM me or leave one in a review, and I will credit you for it! Thanks!**


End file.
